


Details on The Kingdom of Arendelle

by badcrossoverqueen



Series: Loyalty, Honour, and a Frozen Heart [2]
Category: Frozen (2013), The Hobbit (Jackson Movies)
Genre: Alternate Canon, Canon Timeline, Canon-Typical Violence, Cultural Differences, Gen, I'm Sorry Tolkien
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-09-08
Updated: 2015-08-27
Packaged: 2018-02-16 03:17:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,944
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2253834
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/badcrossoverqueen/pseuds/badcrossoverqueen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A reference text for my crossover/fusion story detailing small things like Arendelle's place in Middle Earth.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Arendelle's History

**Author's Note:**

> So, here's the first part to the reference fic I was prattling about. It's very long winded, and DEFINITELY not required reading - this stuff will be covered in the fic. It's just a little thing for readers if they want additional insight and for me to keep track of the history I built for Arendelle so that it might be able to stand on its own in Middle Earth without sticking out too badly.
> 
> So, here's my sub-par attempt at imitating Tolkien's magnificent epics. Point and laugh, folks.

Arendelle, though wealthy and prosperous, was a kingdom founded by what most other scholars would call barbarous men. Their ancestors were members of various Dunlending tribes, who were scattered after being driven out of their homes by the Rohirrim during TA2510. Due to unknown reasons (possibly disputes between clans and an unavailability of resources), a group of these men took on a nomadic lifestyle instead of resettling close by to engage in campaigns to retake their stolen lands from the ‘straw heads’. Their wanderings lead them gradually into the west, and their people’s blood mixed with others along their journey as they welcomed new members and bore children despite their harsh life shifting through the wilds.

Eventually, a leader emerged among them, rare among the usually sullen and bitter men so typical of this heritage. He went simply by the name of Aren, and he was a bright-eyed, youthful man of crimson hair, broad grins and unknown paternity. Nevertheless, his benevolence, good humour and vision for change won over his people, as a rare spark of hope suddenly filled their bleak situation. Further west they went, as they briefly re-joined their kin in what would be the town of Bree. By this time, Aren’s brightness had wavered somewhat, as the weight of his responsibility to his kin lay heavily on the usually light-hearted man’s soldiers.

It was then, on a cold night in Bree, that Aren had a vivid dream. In this dream, he and his people were lost in the night, completely directionless and doomed. In a fit of frustration, he raised his head and addressed the night skies as if it had personally wronged him.

“O endless void above, where shall I go from here? My people cannot live as we do, with futures as empty as your dark horizon.”

As if in response, Aren saw great waves of lights ripple through the heavens. Though his people behind him quaked in fear, the red-haired man was entranced. He watched the iridescent ribbons of green, blue and purple as they stretched out before him, into the northwest. Aren saw, and he understood. The lights were directing him to better lands, and he would follow.

Aren had wasted no time in telling his kin his dream, in so much haste that he had not even bothering to change from his bedclothes. Though sceptical at first, Aren’s loyal following and the superstitious nature of Dunlending culture worked in his favour. A week later, they left on what looked like a fool’s errand as poorly equipped and inexperienced group of travellers walked headfirst into the coldest region of Middle Earth with little more than a madman’s dreams as a guide.

Nevertheless, Aren’s dreams served them well, leading them on a safe path through unfamiliar territory. Each morning, he would wake, immediately pointing out the direction where the lights would lead them to next. As they progressed through the harsh landscape, the lights appeared in the skies at night for all the wanderers to see. 

They were eventually leaded to the coast, where they settled in a small valley hugging a fjord. Over the years, there were several clashes with the Lossoth – brown skinned men of the snow that feared outsiders as the Dunlendings feared their invaders so many years ago. These battles were not waged frequently, and Aren’s people were puzzled that their opponents seemed unwilling to engage in too many battles. The Lossoth were without swords, for they had never seen a forge, or thought to tamper with steel, cut off from the world as they were. Yet the Lossoth could move with great swiftness through the snow by riding on branches attached to their feet, and could even do the same with bones to traverse ice. Such a skill would be devastating if utilised by an army, yet still the strange folk seemed distracted. Their archers and spearmen also were of great practiced skill, with techniques learned from generations of hunting to survive through frozen, sparse Forochel winters. 

It was a few years when Aren had learned the reason for their opponent’s reluctance to engage in battle – there were large amounts of goblins in the mountains, and the foul creatures raided the villages of the Lossoth, and their numbers were dwindling. However, after Aren’s people began to harvest wood and stone to build structures, their presence was finally brought to the attention of the monsters, and they began to attack the newcomers in earnest. Aren’s people were wild and strong because of their heritage, but were ill prepared for large-scale battle, and many lost their lives. Their leader, now older, sent envoys to the men he had previously waged war with, requesting an alliance to exterminate the evil in the mountains.

The Lossoth chieftain, known as Kimmo, was a wise and softhearted young man who had taken up leadership of his clan after the death of his father at the hands of the goblins. Weary of the massacre of his people, he and Aren became allies, and all confrontations between the two groups of men were ceased as they plotted against the goblins. While both the Lossoth and the wandering peoples were small, scattered groups individually, their forces combined were far stronger.

The Lossoth taught Aren’s folk how to glide upon ice and snow and survive the wintry nights, while Aren’s folk introduced swords, armour, arrows and various military and architectural technologies that they had learned while travelling in the east. Together, they formed an army formidable enough to face the goblin’s great numbers.

The foul creatures were slaughtered, and the few surviving members were driven to the shadows of the farthest mountains from them, where they hid, cowed, and gnashed their teeth bitterly in the cold, desolate caves they had found themselves in. Aren’s folk and the Lossoth had won. 

These events solidified the two people’s friendship forever more. No longer waging war, a cultural revolution was experienced on both sides, as inventions, ideas and ways of life were exchanged. While most stayed by Aren’s side, a few of his people joined the Lossoth, notably Aren’s eldest child Anja, who fell in love with and married Kimmo.

Aren set upon building a great stone castle, partly using the method of building rock upon the sea that was invented by the Lossoth. He was an old man by then, and he died peacefully only to see the foundations of his vision completed. His sons and daughters, however, continued his building in honour of his memory, and when it was finished, it was christened Arendelle, in his honour, as per ancient Dunlending tradition. Although King Aren himself only considered himself a leader of his people while he was alive, he was from then on King, and his descendants henceforth were to be considered royalty. The Lossoth, being a separate nation of peoples, kept to their tradition of naming their leaders Chieftains, but such leaders were held in just as high regard as Kings and Queens. 

It was only forty years after Aren’s death that the Arendellian tradesmen considered selling Forochel Ice to their kinsfolk at Bree. The idea to preserve food using the cold temperature of ice had been a Lossoth idea, but the Lossoth’s pride lay in the skill of their hunters, and they preferred to deal in furs, fish and produce, if they were forced to do so. The Arendellians were less secretive and wary of the world, having travelled its expanses, and soon developed a trade network. They found that, due to its unique properties, the ice was highly prized, especially amongst food-orientated peoples like the folks of The Shire, and wealthy kings of all races in the east.

As peaceful centuries passed by, the wealth of Arendelle only grew. It had become the trading hub of Forochel, and the people’s past as Dunlending barbarians were almost completely forgotten, only being brought up vaguely as histories. The people had largely forgotten their mother tongues and histories. The common tongue emerged as the first language in their vocabulary, and only the nobles spoke the Old Language for ceremonial purposes or as means of academic exercise.

King Aren himself lived on as a revered figure in their mythologies, and often his tales were embellished. His descendants were in turn greatly respected, though personality wise, they acted as most other Arendellians, jolly and unburdened folk, who gradually became more and more ignorant of any troubles occurring in the outside world. In turn, the outside world largely ignored Arendelle’s presence; save for their ice. Foreigners only knew Arendelle as an obscure settlement in the harsh lands of Forochel.

Thus, after its official founding in TA 2536, the kingdom Arendelle faded into comfortable sleepiness, until the events surrounding Queen Elsa’s birth shook it awake.


	2. The People of Arendelle

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arendelle's people, their speech, and their culture.

As of TA 2941, Arendellians do not have the most well known reputation throughout Middle Earth, and what outsiders know of them is largely stereotype based on encounters with ice sellers and stories about Arendelle’s palace. The general view is a vision of large, red-haired, freckled men, who wear fur-lined clothing and whose wares one probably wouldn’t be able to easily afford unless one is an innkeeper, gentlehobbit, or nobleman/dwarf/elf. The view of Arendelle’s nobles is somewhat different. Wealthier folks of Middle Earth may think of a young nation, whose peoples dress in garishly colourful clothes and flit around throwing parties and pretending that they are old money. While there are grains of truth to these tales, there is more to this kingdom, even though they are indeed small, young and largely uninfluential.

The Arendellian vision of ideal beauty does include freckles and red hair, mostly due to the idealised vision of King Aren and his descendants. Arendellians do tend to be an unburdened, jolly lot, and the only thing they seem to take seriously is their deep pride in their ‘impressive’ cultural history. They do have a tendency to be ignorant to the outside world, and tend to spend inordinate amounts of time celebrating festivals and playing sports. 

Their accent is a reflection on them, as it is for most other cultures. The Lossoth’s unique tongue has influenced their accent and has mixed with their original Dunlending manner of speech. This odd, mixed combination, coupled with the extensive travelling Aren’s folk completed years ago, has resulted in the unique ‘twang’ in their words. Arendellian speech and grammar is highly relaxed and full of colloquialisms, even amongst nobility. Despite their emphasis on their history, the Old Tongue of Aren’s people has been largely forgotten amongst the general populace, though many a noble has had to sit through lessons on the language during their childhood.

The nearest peoples to them – namely the Lossoth and the inhabitants of The Shire, largely influenced Arendellian design and dress. Unlike other kingdoms of men, the inhabitants of Arendelle mimic their Lossoth neighbours and show more skin in the summer months. Bare arms and shoulders are not frowned upon when dancing in late-night ball gowns, and are in fact fashionable. Ice harvesters and those who wish to keep warm in the winter months also sometimes mimic Lossoth styles. Other trademarks of Arendellian design, such as floral patterns, bright colours and waistcoats are adopted from Shire fashion.

Only few echoes of Arendelle’s ancestors remain. They still harbour a grudge against the Rohirrim, and refuse direct business with the kingdom. By extension, blonde hair, while not by any means unacceptable or cause for complete shunning, is not generally considered conventionally attractive, and there is a joke amongst them that ‘straw heads have no souls’. A few old festivals and traditions remain. The floral motifs that are seen in clothing are also reminiscent of the geometric motifs that the Dundenlings would carve on their weapons, and are still believed to bring good fortune.

Relations with the Lossoth are still filled with respect and friendship. Many Arendellians romanticise and admire Lossoth culture and practices. Lossoth men and women are seen as ‘exotic’ and exciting, though most well-bred Arendellians refrain from being disrespectful. Inter-marriage is not uncommon between the two peoples. Elsa and Anna, like most nobility, have some Lossoth blood in them.

Their geographic situation means that they have quite a few trade agreements with the dwarves of the Blue Mountains. These agreements mainly consist of commissions on sleigh runners, tools and similar items fashioned better by dwarven hands than any run-off-the-mill Arendellian blacksmith. While the two peoples know each other, there is a separation between them, as with many relationships between dwarves and humans. Arendellians enjoy the rowdiness of some dwarves but are also an open people that feel put out by dwarven cultural secrecy and their strict traditions. The other barrier is more physical, as dwarves avoid approaching Arendelle directly because it is a coastal city, and its castle is built on  _seawater_. Due to their extreme fear of the ocean, one couldn't pay a dwarf enough just to visit Arendelle. You could, however, afford a nice new pair of ice skates for upcoming Yule celebrations.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I may expand on this later, but here's what I have so far.


	3. A King's Letter, pt 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A Letter From King Agdar of Arendelle to Lord Elrond of Rivendell. Year: TA 2917

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> King Agdar is a lore nerd and an Elrond fanboy.

Most Knowledgeable Lord Elrond,

I am deeply elated at your acceptance for correspondence between us. As an enthusiast of Middle Earth’s lore, I am honoured to be able to share tales between our people. 

The tomes and scrolls that I have shipped with this letter are quite sensitive to changes in weather, so I do hope that they reached you intact. They have been transcribed, of course, from the original texts, but I am afraid that our wisdom of tomekeeping methods in Arendelle is limited. Apologies in advance if there are damages, and I humbly offer to replace any items as needed.

I was glad to research the information you requested. Indeed, the Lossoth people’s tolerance to Forochel’s weather is a matter of great interest. I was able to conduct an interview with my dear friend and ally Chief Taivas, who shared with me a legend that supposedly explains this phenomenon.

While it is no eyewitness account, I do feel that the legends of the Lossoth people do probably hold truth in what may have transpired to give them such a gift. As such, I have attached a transcript of the tale that Chief Taivas shared with me. Please do forgive the way it is written, as it is difficult sometimes to translate the language of the Lossoth to the Common Tongue.

I do hope this aids you in filling your collection, and I am glad to share any more information, so do feel free to request any other topics of interest. Arendelle is glad to share her story with your people, and I am sure our sister nation feels the same.

May Aren bless you and your kin.

Yours enthusiastically,

King Agdar of Arendelle.

 

* * *

 

**Legend of Aurinko’s Love**

_The Lossoth nations have a legend passed down from generation to generation, telling of how their people survived the proximity to the Evil Cold of Morgorth. It is supposedly the origin of their tolerance to low temperatures, as well as their moral values of selflessness, love, and sacrifice._

Many years ago, when dark powers ruled the land, The People were dwindling. Their skins were not hardy, and their bones could not fend off the cold as they do today. They huddled in caves, and rarely felt the sun on their faces because he sun could not reach them, and a constant blizzard raged outside. 

The chief of The People, Aurinko, was in constant heartache from seeing his people suffer. From a young age, he delved into the deepest caves of the ancestors, reading the cave-writings and excavating old ruins of the fair folk of the east. He learned their old magicks, and often dreamed in the old caverns, having visions and learning their powers.

Finally, in his forty-first year, he had his final vision. Aurinko listened to the wisdom of the ancients, and learned of a method to defeat the storm by trapping its icy power in the caves for all eternity. However, he learned that there would be a terrible price. As he was not born with great magicks, the spell he would perform would consume him, turning his heart into ice and killing him.

The spirit in his dream asked if he would do it, and the kindly chief said that he would, for no storm’s spear could hurt his heart more than the pain of seeing his beloved people suffer.

Aurinko ushered his frightened people outside, a safe distance away. He then spread the magicks he learned through the caves, and went to the surface, standing in the overhang of the Luolissa Lumi (Caves of Frost). He performed the spell, letting the storm pass through him and into the caves.

The skies cleared, and the sun shone for the first time in an age. The people rejoiced, running up to their chief and singing his praises. But, the celebrations were short-lived.

The chief’s chest was wracked with aches and shivering, and he grew colder by the second. His skin turned pale, and his hair turned white. Finally, he froze over, dying.

The grief of The People was strong for they loved their great chief as much as he loved them. His selfless actions toward them during his reign planted a deep devotion in their hearts. They gathered close together, mourning, their hearts aching with love for him. This pure, selfless love between The People thawed the ice in his heart, and Aurinko was cured.

It is said that the love of Aurinko and his subjects still burns like a hearth in the hearts of the Lossoth today, and it is that magic that keeps them warm, even through the coldest blizzards.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think you can all see where I'm going with this legend.


End file.
